


Five Times Fence Believed All Might Yet Be Very Well (and One Time He Was Certain)

by misura



Category: The Secret Country Series - Pamela Dean
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:23:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Therefore the hunter doeth give chase to the pure white hart," Randolph said. "Let it pass, an it will, and no ill may come of it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Fence Believed All Might Yet Be Very Well (and One Time He Was Certain)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Petra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/gifts).



> oodles of people helped me with the language - you know who you are, and you know that you re awesome. (at least, I hope you do.) if any mistakes remain, it's because I changed yet another small thing at the last minute and didn't think to ask.

.01

"An it is but a passing fancy, 'twere better not to walk this path at all, for to possess some small knowledge on this matter may oft prove yet more perilous than to possess none at all," Fence said, in a tone (Patrick thought) neither condescending nor particularly kind.

Given that he was the only real wizard at court, Patrick supposed there had to be rather a lot of people pestering him about one thing or another, even if he'd guess that most of them simply wanted Fence to do something magical _for_ them, instead of teaching them how to do magic themselves.

Randolph was young, and Fence had no real reason to expect him to be any different from other people. He might know Randolph possessed some small magical talent, but that was hardly unique.

"Had my fancy been caught by aught, I assure thee 'twould not by thine magic, nor thine knowledge regarding the use thereof," Randolph replied.

Fence's mouth quirked. "That is well."

Randolph didn't smile. Clearly, he expected Fence to say something more on the matter of his 'fancies', and equally clearly, Fence had no intention of doing so. Since Randolph was the one having come here to ask Fence for a favor (that is: to ask Fence to take him on as a student of Blue Sorcery), Patrick expected him to be the first one to break the silence. Fence, after all, had no reason to do so. He didn't particularly want a student to distract him from his work, and even if he would have wanted one, there was no reason why he should want Randolph in particular.

And yet it was Fence, who made some small bow barely worth the term and said, "To share with thee my knowledge would please me."

Randolph did smile at that, less like Fence's answer pleased him and more like he thought it funny. "It pleases me that it pleases thee."

Fence frowned, as if Randolph's words had been improper in some way. "On the matter of fancies, you might do well not to heed them; they are, by their nature, but fleeting and good rarely to come of indulging them."

"Therefore the hunter doeth give chase to the pure white hart," Randolph said. "Let it pass, an it will, and no ill may come of it."

"Just so," Fence said, no longer frowning.

 

.02

The thing about stairs (Ted thought) was that you never really thought about them very much, once you got used to them. Fence had probably walked up and down the stairs of his tower hundreds of times, and unless he'd suddenly run into some gurgling purple monster, it was unlikely he'd be paying a lot of attention to his surroundings while doing so.

Still, no matter how occupied your mind was, sooner or later you'd notice that while your feet had touched at least two hundred and eight steps, you hadn't, in fact, gotten any closer to where you wanted to get.

Fence, being a wizard, noticed after about an hour, or at least twenty times as many minutes as it would normally have taken him to reach his working room.

The first thing he did once he realized what was going on was to stop walking. The second thing he did was, of course, try to figure out _why_ it was going on. (Personally, Ted wouldn't have cared so much about the why as much as he'd have cared about finding a way to make it stop. Which was what Fence did next, of course, and Patrick would probably have told him that knowing the cause made it a lot easier to stop the effect, but Ted didn't think it always worked like that in real life.)

 

"Surely it cannot be the distance from the kitchen to here that has left thee in such a state. Methinks 'tis no journey from there." Randolph had lit the fireplace and placed a jug of wine on the table, along with enough food to provide four grown men with a solid dinner.

"An it is impossible, it cannot be but the truth," Fence said, sinking down wearily in one of the chairs.

Randolph regarded him for a moment, then rose and poured a cup of wine which he then handed to Fence, who accepted it with a smile.

"In truth, 'twas very well done," Fence said.

Randolph's expression was pleased, even though he replied: "I know not of what you speak."

"Alas, that it has left me exhausted."

Randolph looked thoughtful, then slightly suspicious, then cautious. "Some food may yet help restore thy strength."

Fence smiled at him with a great deal of affection. "Your faith in me is humbling. Would that it matched thy trust."

Randolph looked offended, then amused, then slightly sheepish. "I swear, 'twas not my intention to overtire thee. Had it been possible to speak with you, I would not have hesitated to do so, once the hour had grown too long."

"A childish prank never wants apologizing for," Fence said comfortably. "Let my exhaustion be thine punishment. It suffices, I believe."

"To pass a grown man's sentence on the act of a child - can this be called justice?"

Fence laughed. "To mask one's own shortcomings as a willful act - can this be called aught but vanity?"

"Eat," Randolph said. "Eat, then have what revenge thou willst on me."

 

.03

Randolph returned from Feren to find High Castle much as he remembered it (Laura thought). He'd had no reason to expect anything else, naturally - if anything too serious had happened, he'd have heard about it even in Feren, if not from Fence, then from someone else.

He'd first gone to see the King, of course, who had seemed glad to see him returned. It was heartening to find he hadn't been completely forgotten during his absence.

One of his heavy saddlebags now was considerably lighter, after a meeting with Fence's current small army of 'spies'. They had seemed glad to see him, too, even if Randolph suspected they might have been less expressive in their joy if he'd come upon them empty-handed. (Then again, maybe not.)

Fence, he was able to learn from them, was to be found in his tower. He hadn't been seen since breakfast, which was a good eight hours ago now.

 

"Shallst compare me to a Summer's day - longed for in its absence, yet rarely appreciated once it hath appeareth?" Randolph put down his pack on the floor of Fence's working room.

Fence chuckled, then moved to embrace him. Randolph thought Fence felt thinner than he had been before Randolph's departure, and Fence's expression was less than of a man happy at the return of a friend and more that of a man grown weary of seeing things that he didn't particularly want to see.

"Aught that is rare may yet appear and be the more valued for it," Fence said. "Please. Sit. Rest. Tell me of all that has befallen thee."

Randolph smiled. "All? A long story that would be, and dull."

Fence poured two cups of wine. "Long, I do not doubt. 'tis just as well the hour is early still, then, and that thou hast already given greeting to all of those entitled to it."

"And some not entitled to't, save by their own conviction," Randolph said, smiling.

"I bid thee welcome back most heartily," Fence said, handing one of the two cups to Randolph. "Winter, I shall not speak of, but cold, of a certainty, and me grown used to warmth."

Randolph made a short bow and opened his mouth to speak, but Fence forestalled him.

"No, do not, I beg you. To see you returned, and unharmed, is a joy. Let us say no more on the matter."

"Gladly," Randolph said, slightly puzzled, but willing. If Fence didn't want to talk about how he'd missed Randolph, that was fine; if Fence didn't want to talk about something that had happened to him while Randolph was gone, Randolph would find out quickly enough.

 

.04

Randolph would have much prefered to accompany Fence on his journey to the south (Ellen thought) but the risk of Andrew using their absence to sway the Council and the King to his views were too great, and so they had agreed that it was best if one of them would stay behind, and that it should be Randolph.

Fence thought Randolph was better suited to handling the Council, which was probably true, except that Randolph thought that he was better suited to handling the kind of trouble that might cause experienced scouts to not make their reports on time, and that was probably true, too. Even if Fence had had some training in using a sword, Randolph was still the better swordsman.

"Which would but help you little, be our suspicions regarding this situation truthful," Fence said calmly. "An it brings you peace, I shall most solemnly swear thee not to turn my back to any door, be it open nor shut, nor even locked solid."

"And many doors will greet thee where thou goeth." Randolph shook his head but he was smiling as he did so. "Still, I shall have thine oath, and gladly."

Fence nodded once, curtly. "Gladly received and gladly given."

"More gladly still welcomed back safe and hale, and with a tale that will suffice to convince the King, if not yet Andrew," Randolph said.

"To ask for wonders is to wish for disappointment," Fence said. "Certainty I shall seek, and find, and count myself fortunate for't."

"Be thou certain I shall await thy return, and eagerly."

"Say rather: frettingly." Fence smiled. "Canst thou not trust my skills, if not my judgment?"

"Doubting neither, I can but blame my worries on that which lays no claim to reason nor logic."

"A fearsome power, and wild," Fence said, his expression serious. "Best have a care, ere it burns thee."

 

.05

"Would that you stayeth," Fence told Randolph, once the children had left, leaving them their tale to consider, along with the matter of Claudia.

Randolph shrugged, sat down again. Fence studied him for a moment, his expression a mixture of (Ruth thought) concern and curiosity.

"An I had been gone years, I would not have been surprised to find thee waiting still," Fence said.

"An you had been gone years, I would not have remained," Randolph said, not looking up, and there was a sharp note of something close to anger in his voice.

Fence breathed in sharply, and Randolph looked up.

"Spoken in anger, spoken in truth," Fence said. He sat down. "I apologize. 'twas ill done."

"Rather say: 'twas done with no small skill," Randolph said, the note from before having been replaced by something bitter. "Am I but a babe, then, to be rendered helpless thus?"

Fence's mouth quirked. "Hardly a babe. One doth doubt the lady's taste would run thusly."

"One doth doubt the lady's taste to count for aught," Randolph said, but he sounded less bitter.

" 'tis not the lady's taste one finds fault with."

"She would have stabbed thee, given half a chance," Randolph said. "And such a one I looked upon and found pleasure therein."

"To punish thyself is thine right; to punish me for no mistake of thine is unjust and unwise both," Fence said. "Wouldst thou quarrel with me thus, thereby offer her the whole of a chance, where half came so near to serving her very well?"

Randolph sighed. "Thine tongue is convincing, as ever."

"Thine memory serves thee well," Fence said.

 

.01

If anyone was going to sit her down for a serious conversation about love and respect and the breaking of her legs, Ruth supposed she shouldn't have expected it to be anyone other than Fence. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened to Randolph's parents, but she knew what had happened to his brother. Fence was as close to family as Randolph still had.

"Surely 'tis better to be bonded in affection than without it," Fence said, and it occured to Ruth that she was about to have a somewhat different talk from the one she'd expected.

"I assure you I hold Lord Randolph in great affection." Lady Ruth wouldn't have sounded so uncertain, she thought. Then again, Lady Ruth wouldn't have claimed to love Lord Randolph, probably, or if she had, she might have been lying, or thought that she was lying.

Possibly, it was just as well Ruth was just Ruth. At least she knew how she felt.

"I do, also," Fence said, and leaned back in his seat to look at her as if he had just told her the answer to one of the mysteries of the universe.

"Oh." Well, she'd known that, of course. Fence loved Randolph; it was why he'd taken it so hard when he'd found out that it had been Randolph who'd poisoned the King.

Fence's mouth quirked. "To some, a problem may be found therein."

Ruth was about to open her mouth to declare how silly it was, to think it a problem that someone had a best friend, when it occured to her that Fence was most definitely not silly. "Oh," she said again, in a slightly different tone this time. "I see." Had Lady Ruth known? She'd certainly seemed to be getting around quite a bit herself: effect or cause or nothing at all to do with it?

"Yes," Fence said, and for a moment, she thought he'd read her mind. Well, he _was_ a wizard.

"You'd rather I didn't marry him?" Ruth asked.

Fence looked shocked, as if she'd suggested he might like to kick a puppy. "Thy actions are thine own, as his are his. 'tis no affair of mine. Rather, I would know thine position on this matter."

Her _position_? Well, she _had_ asked Lord Randolph to marry her, and he hadn't run away screaming at the idea. "Whatsoever pleases Lord Randolph will please me well enough also." Lady Ruth might have used that line - if Lady Ruth had been stupidly in love with Lord Randolph, except that Lady Ruth probably wouldn't have wanted to share him, once she'd married him. Probably.

"This selfsame question I asked of thee, I asked of him," Fence said. "Wouldst thou know what answer he gaveth?"

Ruth nodded, not quite trusting her voice.

"The same." Fence smiled. " 'Whatsoever pleases Lady Ruth will please me well enough also.' 'tis as well you shall be wed."

"I'm not going to take him away from you, you know," Ruth said impulsively and quite possibly making a fool of herself. "It's obvious he loves you, and you love him, and I love him and I know that gets really messy in some stories, but we're all grown-ups around here and we're not stupid or anything, so I'm sure that if we try, we can work it all out."

Fence lightly grasped her hand and kissed it. Ruth didn't get a funny feeling in her stomach, the way she did when Lord Randolph did things like that, but she did feel something, and it wasn't a bad or an unpleasant something.

"All may yet be very well," Fence told her.

She rather thought he was absolutely right.


End file.
